


Nous Vivons Sans Regret

by tryslora



Series: Mating Games Round 2 [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Community: mating_games, Morning After, Multi, Sleepovers, Threesome - F/M/M, Waking Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 17:58:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1614128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris wakes up slowly, his mouth like cotton, sour with the taste of stale whiskey and old smoke. It takes time to remember where he is... why he is there...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nous Vivons Sans Regret

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for Bonus Challenge #2 - Sleepovers at mating_games round 2. This is one of my new favorite TW threesomes, so I wanted to play with it a little. As always, I do not own the world or characters of Teen Wolf, I just like to play with them.

Chris wakes up slowly, his mouth like cotton, sour with the taste of stale whiskey and old smoke. God _damn_ it, he hasn’t smoked in years, not since Victoria said she hated it and now… now…

_Don’t do that. Don’t you know those things will kill you?_

He remembers the way her fingers curled over his hand, pushing it down after he managed to take one drag. Not Victoria, not her hands. These hands were rougher. Smaller.

Tougher.

Not a word he ever thought he’d think compared to his wife.

_If the man wants to smoke, let the man smoke._

Big hands, nudging her away in the recesses of his mind.

Longer fingers than his own, slender where his are solid.

Hands that wrapped around his…

Chris blinks into the morning light and shakes his head, trying to clear the cobwebs of too much drink and not enough sleep.

“I don’t think the kids are up yet.”

Her voice is husky, warm with the remnants of sleep. He blinks again, trying to summon more memories, fix his place in the here and now and understand what came before.

Fingers drift across his chest. “Then again, maybe you’re not awake either. John’s still dead to the world.”

He rolls to his side, trapping her fingers, taking in the sleep tousled curls and small smile that curls her lips. “You’re beautiful in the morning.” Early morning honesty slips free, and he whispers a mental apology to Victoria that he is here and that those words are true. It feels as if he has betrayed his wife, and yet… she’s gone, and there is nothing about this that feels wrong.

She smiles, flushing slightly. “It’s a nice thought, Chris.”

“Melissa.” He tastes her name on his tongue, flashes on a memory of whispering her name, reverent and soft as he slid inside her warmth, fucking into her while she begged for more.

The bed dips, the man behind him rolling closer, throwing an arm over both Melissa and Chris.

John.

Melissa.

The memories come quickly then, the taste of their mouths over his, the alcohol flowing freely and the clothes disappearing. He remembers the way Melissa came apart under their hands. It began with them focusing on her, and ended with the three of them not caring who was who, only that they touched… pleasured… connected.

And for the first time since _everything_ happened, Chris was able to let go, just for a little while.

He should get out of bed, sneak out of the house before the kids wake up and catch their parents in bed together… but instead he lies back, holds his arms out and waits for them to both curl in close.

“Last night was good,” Melissa says quietly. “No regrets.”

“No regrets,” John echoes, his palm flat against Chris’s chest.

“Nous vivons sans regret,” Chris responds quietly. It is the same, but French always feels more formal for him. More like a vow than mere words. Melissa laughs, low and rough, and the sound shivers through him.

“I don’t know French, but it sounds like we’re all in agreement.” John pushes up on one elbow. “And I’m thinking, that if we don’t have any regrets… maybe we ought to do it one more time before Chris and I have to sneak out of here like a pair of teenagers.”

Chris likes that idea. He murmurs another mental apology to his dead wife, then sinks into the kisses given, into the touches, bringing the night before into the morning light.

This isn’t where he thought he was going when they set out last night, but right this moment, he’s glad it’s where they ended up.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me [on tumblr](http://tryslora.tumblr.com)!


End file.
